


Just A Temporary Salve

by yarnandtea



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Dragon Age Big Bang, Dragon Age II - Freeform, F/M, Mild Spoilers, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:53:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yarnandtea/pseuds/yarnandtea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In between running his clinic and helping Hawke and trying to make a better life for mages everywhere, Anders is always just one step away from a breakdown. Everyone can see it, but Isabela decides to take it upon herself to help him relieve some of that stress he's let build up. And if in the process she gets to have some fun herself? Even better. At least, that's what she keeps telling herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Many many MANY thanks to the awesome artists, niuniente and foxghost, who made such beautiful images from my silly words. Also, a big hearty thanks to the organizers of the Big Bang, because I really truly had a blast doing this! Last but not least, thank you so much to ladyintegra for her awesome beta services! Any remaining mistakes or weirdness are all on me.
> 
> The story contains pretty major spoilers for some of the big plot points and possibilities of Dragon Age II. It also, as much as I was trying for lighthearted smut, ended up rather angsty, so consider yourself warned.

([Art by the amazing niuniente!](http://niuniente.tumblr.com/post/35772374770/just-a-temporary-salve-anders-x-isabela-fic))

 

"I remember you, you know." She said it casually, waiting until his back was turned to her so she could gauge the reaction in those broad shoulders. Oh she remembered.

"Oh?" Anders said cautiously after a moment, his body going very still.

"Back at The Pearl. You were a lot more fun then, when you were still running. Before you were just hiding." _That_ got a reaction. He stiffened briefly and then whirled around, finger raised, clearly about to provide a hopelessly boring explanation about Justice and his _cause_. That was when Isabela went in for the kill. "That electricity trick. Well, it definitely has a place in my favorite, oh, three, liaisons."

Anders stilled a second time, caught completely off guard by this revelation. The blush that suffused his face and neck was more than lovely. Isabela felt a flush of her own, much lower, in answer. Not today though, she judged after a moment. But soon. She slid off the stool, sauntering up to Anders and stepping in closely, almost curling into his side.

"If you ever feel like giving a repeat performance, sweet thing, you know where to find me," she purred, patting his cheek fondly.

She didn't bother waiting for a response, or looking back to see his reaction. She'd seen enough for her purposes. Anders blinked once and Isabela was gone, leaving only a faint hint of jasmine and salt in her wake.

\--

Once she'd decided she wanted to bed him again, it should have been relatively easy to talk her way into Anders' smallclothes. That was how it always went in Isabela's experience. Except for this time. Despite having once enjoyed her considerable charms, and she knew damn well he _had_ enjoyed them--thoroughly--Anders was proving a recalcitrant target.

She had started out well enough. First she made her intentions known with that reminder of the fun they'd had in Denerim. After that, Isabela made sure to pay special attention to Anders when Hawke dragged the both of them along on her errands. She found excuses to touch him, to get him to touch her. She whispered things in his ear that she could have just said to him normally. Wicked Grace nights at The Hanged Man, she maneuvered to sit beside him, leaning over often to allow him a generous view of her ample assets.

She _knew_ he was affected by the attention. He easily flushed when she was working her own brand of magic in his direction. His eyes lingered, his touches sometimes did too. She could _see_ the hunger behind those amber eyes. She'd felt it a time or two as well, when she'd arranged to be pressed up against him in tight spaces. He was definitely taking notice of her efforts, and the flesh seemed willing enough. But...he wasn't biting. By now she should have had him on his knees before her, begging to worship her as she so rightly deserved, or at least fucking her into the wall in some corner of Lowtown.

_It looks like I am going to have to try a more direct approach_ , she told herself after a particularly fruitless evening of flirting.

So she invented a pretense to visit his clinic one night close to the time he usually put out the lanterns. After her business was concluded she hung around, even going so far as to help him out with sorting supplies and cleaning up. Once the last patient had gone, the light of the lanterns darkened (with a surprised sideways look at a still very present Isabela), and the last of the supplies put away, Anders slumped wearily into a chair. Isabela watched him for a moment, feeling a twinge of sadness for how beaten down he seemed. This was a far cry from the young man she remembered enjoying at The Pearl.

After a moment she loosed a sound of exasperation and walked around to stand behind him. She reached down to rub his shoulders, unsurprised at the tension they held. _He's wound so tautly he's like to snap any second._ She continued rubbing and Anders began to relax into her fingers. He let out a soft sigh of appreciation as the massage went on. For the briefest moment Isabela hesitated in her plan. It was clear that Anders had other concerns than sating his physical desires. But... _maybe that is exactly what he needs to allow him to continue on as he is._ Her mind made up, she decided to make her play.

"What's your game Anders?"

"Pardon?" All of his new relaxation disappeared in an instant, but she kept up the massage and he turned his head to look at her in confusion, his body slowly easing once more despite the wary look on his face. It did not surprise her. She was becoming all too familiar with how often his body seemed at conflict with his mind these days.

"Why won't you sleep with me? I've been quite clear in my invitations." She put on her best pout. "If it was anyone else I'd be quite insulted by the refusal, you know."

Anders shook his head, letting out a rueful chuckle.

"I had really hoped you would get the point without having this conversation." Sighing, he stood and turned to face her, bringing a hand up to tangle in a lock of her hair. "I don't have to tell you how tempting you are Isabela," he said quietly, "and I remember too, you know. I know what I am missing out on, but..." She crossed her arms and canted her hips, deepening the pout. "...such a dalliance would not be wise."

Before she could protest his skin seemed to crack, blue light pouring from the fissures in a sudden flare. Isabela's eyes widened and she took a hasty step back, almost stumbling over her own feet.  As much as she liked to tease about Justice, she could admit to herself that the spirit terrified her. He did not belong in this world. He did not belong in _Anders_. After that business with Alrik, when Anders had nearly lost control and killed that girl...Isabela still had nightmares about that, truth be told.

The glow faded almost instantly, leaving Anders behind, no longer chuckling but still with that rueful smile. He shook his head and walked around the chair, approaching her. Isabela straightened, quickly getting her reeling thoughts under control.

"You know what I am, Isabela. You know my purpose." He stopped in front of her, raising a hand to her face. "I don't have the luxury of...such pleasures. They would only get in the way. Justice does not approve, and...I suppose I agree."

Anger flared up in Isabela and she leaned forward, her face less than a hand span from his.

"Bollocks."

"What?" Anders blinked, surprised by her sudden recovery.

"You know me well enough to know that what I offer comes without any threat of attachment. You know I won't get in the way of your cause as long as it doesn't get in _my_ way. I'm no threat to your work. In fact, you _need_ this. You need _me_. You've no outlet for your stress, no relief. You take too much on, Anders. Spirit guest or not, you can only do so much. You'll break if you don't allow yourself a way to relax! Where will your cause be then? If Justice disapproves he can bloody well shut his eyes and hum himself a tune. You've sacrificed enough to let him stay in this world, he can sacrifice something to keep you going."

This time when the glow of Justice returned she managed to hold her ground. She looked directly into those white-blue eyes and waited, determined to argue the spirit down if need be. She felt the weight of assessment as he stared at her. After a moment he nodded briskly.

"YOU MAKE SENSE." His booming voice echoed throughout the clinic. Isabela stood firm, suppressing a shudder. It was unnatural to hear how Anders' soft tone mixed with the deep timbre of the spirit. "IT IS UNWISE TO LET THE MAGE CONTINUE TO DENY HIMSELF REST AND A CHANCE OF RECOVERY. PERHAPS YOU MIGHT BE ABLE TO PROVIDE HIM SOME RESPITE. IT IS CLEAR HE DESIRES YOU, AND HIS MEMORIES SHOW THAT YOU ARE UNLIKELY TO CARRY ANY EMOTIONAL EXPECTATIONS. VERY WELL. I AGREE TO YOUR TERMS." The glow faded, leaving a slightly dazed Anders and a blinking Isabela in its wake.

"Erm," he glanced at Isabela and an embarrassed flush covered his cheeks and ran down his neck.

"Well," Isabela said smugly, her equilibrium already returning, "it would appear that we have a deal."

"Yes, I rather suppose we do," Anders said softly, stepping forward once more. Isabela pushed the chair out of the way and closed the distance between them, cupping his face in her hands and pulling him in for a kiss before she could question what she had just gotten herself into.

Anders kissed back hungrily. One hand slid around her waist, splaying against her back as he pulled her body firmly to his own. The other hand reached for her bandana, yanking it out of her hair before tangling once more in the dark locks.

Isabela smiled into the kiss, opening her lips a little, sucking on Anders' tongue when he pushed it inside of her mouth. She closed her eyes and delighted in the feel and taste of victory, so hard won on this particular chase. Her hands moved to his shirt, unlacing the front and then pulling it out of his trousers. With his jacket long-since abandoned so he could better tend to his patients, slipping the shirt over his head was a simple enough matter, though they had to break their kiss in order for her to do so.

Anders' eyes met her own as his shirt joined her bandana on the floor. She released a small sigh and smiled at the look in them. Here was the Anders she remembered from The Pearl so many years ago. He gave her an answering grin, and she tried not to think too much about how it tugged at her heart to realize that not once since meeting him here in Kirkwall had she seen such an easy or happy expression on his face. To distract herself she ran her hands over his chest, catching them in the fine smattering of honey hair and noting how much leaner he was now than he had been. His arms still held the same sense of strength when he pulled her to him again, however, crushing his lips against hers, their teeth meeting and tongues dueling for dominance.

"Mmm, I would be lying if I said I hadn't missed this kind of thing," Anders sighed as they came apart again. He ran his thumb over Isabela's cheek, looking around the clinic speculatively. "I would prefer not to do this out here, where I treat people..."

"Of course sweetness," she chuckled and then turned to lead him to the back, where she knew he kept his own sparse quarters. It wasn't nearly as nice as her room at The Hanged Man, which was a sad comparison, but there was space enough for what they intended, and the cot appeared sturdy. She undid her sash and then started in on the laces of her corset while he pulled the curtain across the doorway shut. She noticed his approach out of the corner of her eyes but paid him little mind until he reached out to hesitantly touch her necklace.

"I would see all of you," he said softly when she looked up at him in surprise. He did not say please, but she heard the word in the space between them as clearly as if he had. She tilted her head and looked at him for a moment, considering, then nodded assent. She had said this was about _him_ , and she realized in that moment that she had meant it. If all she wanted was to sate her own desires and prove her powers of seduction, there were other targets just as challenging, after all.

At her nod Anders relaxed markedly and set about removing what remained of his own clothing. When they were both bare he stepped to her again, reaching out, his hand hovering in front of her, as if he could not decide where to begin touching. Isabela laughed quietly and closed the space between them, her breast pushing right into his outstretched hand. His eyes widened and then he laughed as well, flashing a grin at her before bringing up his other hand and giving both her breasts a firm squeeze, thumbs brushing roughly against her nipples. They hardened swiftly under the attention and Isabela breathed a sigh of pleasure, her own hands going to his waist, tracing his stomach, thighs, hips, moving around to grasp his ass.

She tugged him to her and kissed him once more, just a quick peck, really, before spinning him around and pushing him down on the cot. Anders went willingly enough and watched with intent interest as she climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

She was amused to find that it was _she_ who could not stop touching him, rather than the other way around. It had been considerably longer since he had found himself in such intimate company, after all. Yet these days Anders kept himself so closed in, so shut up and huddled in that oversized coat, warded off by determination to prevent even his friends from getting too close. To see him so naked, in more than just the obvious way, it was a high that Isabela found she could not get enough of.

That isn't to say that Anders wasn't doing his fair share of touching, too, of course. But she had expected him to be hungrier, to rush to the finish working out all of those years of pent up desires and wants that the spirit had denied him. Instead he seemed to take delight in stretching out the encounter. His caresses were slow, soft, his kisses lingering. Despite their arrangement on the bed, he quickly asserted control over things and Isabela, curious, let him. Anders ran his hands over her body, his eyes drinking in every bit of her. They shimmered, golden in the dim light that filtered in from a shaft somewhere high above them. The sight almost took her breath away. _Ooh, shiny. This_ is _the best kind of booty_....

Her thoughts were derailed when he smiled impishly and rested his hands on the tops of her thighs, so close to her center, but not touching, not yet. Her eyes widened and she loosed a moan as light flickered around his fingers, sending tingling jolts of pleasure racing through her body. Very slowly he slid one hand up, his thumb brushing lightly against the nub buried in her dark curls. The light danced again as he called another spark and Isabela jerked as she cried out her pleasure, grinding down and trying to increase the pressure.

Anders chuckled and pulled his hand back, his smile still wicked but more relaxed now. Once Isabela had caught her breath, she leaned down to kiss him thoroughly. She reached down between them, sliding her hands up and down his length, thumbs circling the tip. Anders sighed and dropped his head to the pillow, his eyes closing and a smile forming on his face. When Isabela began to speed up her strokes, however, he reached for her wrist and opened those eyes once more. A quick shake of his head, another smile, _not quite yet_ , and he was urging her to slide forward, pulling on her hips and settling her to straddle his face.

Isabela braced her hands against the wall, resting her forehead in between them and looking down. She could just see the glint of his eyes as he lazily began to lick her folds, suckling her juices and holding her open with long slender fingers. He worked his tongue inside of her and she sighed happily. He took his time, using his tongue and fingers to bring her to orgasm a second time, humming in satisfaction as she bucked against his mouth.

Then he was pushing her down and _there_ was the eagerness she had expected. It was Isabela's turn to chuckle as she grabbed his cock, positioning it just so and sliding herself down fully upon it. Anders cried out and bucked into her. She leaned in to kiss him again, slipping her tongue into his mouth, savoring her taste on his tongue. Then they began to move, together, feverishly finding a rhythm and quickly bringing Anders his own release. He called her name as he came and Isabela thought she'd never heard a sweeter sound.

She finally climbed off Anders and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. A small sigh of satisfaction tickled her ear. She turned her head and kissed his cheek lightly.

"There, now, don't you feel so much better?" She purred the question into his ear, enjoying the feel of him running his hands lightly up and down her back.

"Mm. Yes, I suppose I do." They remained in the embrace for a while, just enjoying the contact. As Isabela was considering getting up and returning home, Anders turned to her and asked, "Can you stay the night?" She tilted her head and thought for a moment before nodding her agreement. Anders rose from the cot, brushing his hands through her hair as he did so.

"Just a moment," he said softly, smiling as he moved back into the main room. He returned with a bowl of water and a pair of washcloths. He held the water between his hands for a moment and when it began to steam, he wet the first cloth, leaning over to gently clean Isabela from the evidence of their exertions. She enjoyed the added touching and then watched, relaxed, as he did the same for himself. With that taken care of, he returned to the cot and Isabela opened her arms wide. He settled in between them and gave her a soft kiss before returning the embrace. He laughed as she arched into his touch, and it was a good sound. Isabela liked what it did to him, and she resolved that she would make him laugh more often. _So much more often._


	2. Two

After that their coupling became something of a habit with remarkable swiftness. The next time they played Wicked Grace, Anders hung around until the others had left, exiting Varric's room with Isabela, making his way to her bed instead of out into the night. After a particularly nasty trip to the Wounded Coast, Isabela accompanied Anders to the clinic to get a "dodgy cut" looked at and stayed long after treatment for medicine of a different kind.

On it went like that for months. Then there was the business with the Arishok, and even though Isabela came back with the stolen tome, she could not bring herself to stay in the city to deal with the fallout. She fled, and she traveled, and before long she found herself back in Kirkwall, missing her friends and their adventures more than she would ever admit to any of them.

She briefly thought Anders might not want to resume their arrangement after such a long break, but the day after she returned, he sidled up next to her at the bar and bought her a drink without even a hint that any time had passed at all since their last encounter. It was simple enough to ignore the little flutter in her stomach set off by his easy acceptance of her reappearance. Just relief that her friend understood who she really was. Nothing more than that, surely.

They _talked_ more than Isabela would have thought to expect. Certainly she would never have imagined she would _enjoy_ that part of things so much.

Curious about how the man could have changed so very much in manner since their encounter in Denerim (even before taking into account his merging with the spirit), Isabela asked him one night about his time with the Wardens.

"I rather enjoyed it more than I thought I would, actually," he admitted with a casual laugh. "I had spent so much time trying to just find a safe place where I could live my life..." He grew quiet for a few moments and Isabela rolled closer to him, snuggling up against his warm body and propping her chin in her hands as she waited for him to continue.

"The taint, being conscripted, knowing my lifespan had been so drastically shortened...I expected it all to be too much. It would be just as confining as the Circle, this new duty that had been forced upon me. But instead, it was...it was a family." He smiled again, the small sad smile she sometimes caught him directing at Hawke when he thought no one could see him. It was a smile of regret, of loss. "For the first time I understood that I was truly safe from the Templars. Even when they did try to disregard my status as a Warden, the Commander or Nate or someone else was always there to have my back. More than that, I was _trusted_ to take care of my own damn self for the first time since, well...ever I guess. It was...nice."

"You found your ship and crew," she smiled, understanding how lost he must have been before joining the order. Even now her whole being ached for a ship. Isabela knew in her bones she was not meant for a life on land. The sea was where she truly belonged. But she had learned in the last few years that it was better to be a little lost than to be aboard the _wrong_ ship. At some point, Amaranthine must have become the wrong ship for Anders. "But it wrecked, didn't it. After all, something made you start running again. Something to do with your angry blue friend, I presume?"

"He wasn't always angry, you know. Not until after we joined and he saw from my own experiences the injustices mages face..."

This was starting to tread perilously close to discussion of Anders' cause and Isabela knew nothing could kill his amorous mood faster. She wasn't quite done with him yet for the evening, so she gently steered the conversation back on course.

"Was the Commander unhappy about the merge?" She placed a palm on his chest as she asked, rubbing small circles through the hair there, toying with the amulet about his neck, a gift from Hawke, she knew. A more emotionally invested lover _might_ be jealous about that, she thought, but not her. Never her.

"It wasn't that," Anders shook his head slightly, rolling over to face her. He reached for her hair, twining his fingers through the locks. He loved to play with it, and Isabela enjoyed the attention. She leaned closer, giving him better access. "The Commander was away on Warden business and a few Templars were stupid enough to think that meant they could finally take me away. Justice did not react well, and after we killed them," he sighed, "it just seemed to me that it would be better for the other Wardens if no one had to waste their time protecting me anymore. So, I left, and eventually I ended up here."

"Mmm, yes you did." Isabela leaned in and kissed him, smirking in satisfaction when he pulled her to him greedily and they spent the rest of the evening with decidedly less conversation. Less verbal conversation at any rate.

That was how it went with them. There would be the initial crash, the frantic coupling releasing pent up tensions and frustrations. Then the calm, where they would relax with each other and talk or sleep, or sometimes even play cards. Not often, though, because Justice tended to get annoyed when Isabela cheated, and Isabela really couldn't imagine _not_ cheating--it wasn't the first threesome she'd been a part of, but it certainly was one of the more prickly ones. After that there would be more sex again, and Isabela delighted in discovering just how much truth there really was to the rumors of Grey Warden stamina.

Sometimes they would spend the night together, sometimes they wouldn't. It was easy, just two people with an understanding. She rather enjoyed that there seemed to be no real pattern to it. When things began to fall into a routine, that was when people started getting serious, started _expecting_ things, and that was when Isabela usually cut things off. But she was having too much fun with Anders to want to stop. It was, perhaps, the only thing she and Justice were in agreement about. Emotions were messy. Much better to just have the sex and not have to worry about anyone getting their feelings hurt.

\--

When they talked it was rarely ever about anything serious, not when they were alone. When it was just Anders and Isabela, and that ever-present but (usually) mercifully silent third, she tried to make sure they just focused on enjoying the moments they managed to steal together. But every once in a while they talked about the others. Not often, since Anders usually only argued about why she should be more careful in whom she chose to befriend. Like when he tried to make her see the "truth" about Merrill, which, to her great annoyance, he felt the need to do often.

"I just don't understand why you spend so much time with her," Anders had lamented. "Why does everyone seem to believe that she needs their protection? She is hardly innocent!"

"To the dangerous world of magic? No, I suppose she isn't," Isabela had answered wryly. "But to the ways of humans? To living in a city? The poor kitten just doesn't understand us, and she needs...guidance." Anders grimaced. He _hated_ when Isabela called Merrill "kitten," disliking the comparison between something he abhorred and something he adored. She smirked at the look and pressed on.

"Merrill is a powerful mage, certainly. No one is disputing that. I am not sure Hawke would have brought her into the fold in the first place if that wasn't the case. But...she doesn't understand how places like Kirkwall _work_ , sweet thing. You've seen how enchanted she was to see someone mugged in front of her. She gets lost in thought and distracted and just lost in general, and trouble has a way of finding her."

Anders huffed, pushing Isabela aside a little more roughly than he normally might as he moved to free up enough blanket to cover himself. He seemed to have little in the way of self-consciousness when it came to his body, but put him on the defensive and Isabela had noticed he would cover up with the closest thing to hand, retreating into himself. She wondered idly if that was the explanation for his absolutely dreadful taste in coats.

"She's a _blood_ mage."

"Yes and most people would call you an abomination." She traced a hand up his thigh to smooth the words before he could think she meant offense with them. "Would you prefer we didn't try to protect her? That we let her wander into trouble and then deal with it in her own way, using blood magic to fight back?"

"At least then people would see her for what she really is," he grumbled. Isabela blinked.

Anders couldn't really mean that, could he? Of all people, he knew more than most how badly the general population reacted to any hint of magic. Seeing actual blood magic in action would probably make the people of Kirkwall want to retaliate against every mage in the vicinity, not just Merrill. But thinking clearly when it came to Merrill wasn't exactly Anders' strong suit.

"Maybe." Isabela said slowly, frowning at him. With his back to her he didn't see it. She sighed and tugged at his shoulder, urging him to roll over. "And then Meredith would be calling for her execution in the Gallows' courtyard. Assuming any witnesses let her make it that far. Do you really want her dead so badly?"

"...no." Isabela could hear the pout. He avoided meeting her eyes but she could also hear that he meant it. A tension she hadn't noticed building up in the pit of her stomach suddenly drained away.

"At least," Isabela pointed out, stroking his chest gently, "she holds back when she is with us. When Hawke's around, when _you're_ around. She doesn't feel so threatened that she needs to take her magic that far. Not often."

"Maybe you're right." He stared at the ceiling, still pouting, but she could see him beginning to stir beneath the blanket again. His mind might be oblivious, but his body at least was not impervious to her touches. She grinned to herself, her mood lightening at the sight as Anders continued, "I just wish she'd show some sort of...regret. _Any_ acknowledgement that what she's doing is _wrong_. Without that, she's a danger to herself. To Hawke. To all of us."

"Well," Isabela purred, leaning over to catch his earlobe in her teeth, "then _you'll_ just have to look out for Hawke, for all of us, won't you sweet thing?" She nipped gently and he sucked in a breath, his attention finally drawn back into his body and what she was doing to it. She slipped a hand beneath the blanket and gave him a firm stroke. "Now. Enough of all of this serious discussion. I came here to have _fun_."

Anders chuckled deeply, and just like that his tension was gone as well. Isabela purred again as he pushed the blanket aside, rolling himself on top of her, his attention back where it belonged: on her.

She tangled her fingers into his hair, pulling his face down to meet her own in a languid kiss, plundering his mouth with her tongue. He tweaked her nipples, lowering mouth to her breasts once she finally released it. She scraped her nails down his back, wanting to leave furrows but holding herself back.

_I'm not planning on leaving him enough energy to bother healing himself tonight_.

She chuckled to herself, imagining with delight how she would wear him out and resolving to stay until she saw him fast asleep. He had been pushing himself too hard lately and she knew he wasn't getting anything even remotely close to enough sleep. Anders licked his way up her neck to her ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth. Isabela sighed with pleasure as he slid a hand down her stomach to comb through the dark curls between her legs, slipping two fingers into the slick folds.

"Mmm," she hummed in pleasure. _I might have to stay the whole night to make sure he actually does sleep it through..._ She gripped his ass as he worked his fingers in and out, idly tracing the cleft and dipping into it, one finger brushing lightly against the entrance there. Anders bucked against her and moaned loudly. She smiled and turned her head to capture his mouth with her own, making a mental note to start keeping some oil on hand so that the next time they might explore _that_ realm of possibility more fully.

_Then again_ , she thought to herself, looking around the room, _this is a clinic after all. He probably has some kind of oil on hand here somewhere..._ The night had looked promising enough already, but now it was starting to look even better.


	3. Three

Of course, Hawke had many companions, and it wasn't just Isabela's friendship with Merrill that drew Anders' ire. Surprisingly he had nothing to say about her closeness with Fenris, despite his own feelings about the elf. But Sebastian, ah, now, that was another matter. Anders could not fathom Isabela's fascination with the man, nor the fact that somehow the morally ambiguous pirate had managed to develop an actual, honest to Andraste, _friendship_ with the Chantry brother.

"I really do not understand why you bother with that man," Anders huffed as he locked the door to Isabela's rooms and turned around to lean against it. His eyes tracked her movements as Isabela stood by the bed, divesting herself of what little clothing she wore. She had learned early on that watching her undress was one of Anders' favorite parts of their liaisons. Even in his current annoyed state that held true.

"Oh, don't mind Varric," Isabela said absently as she sat on the bed to tug off her boot. _Thunk._ A casual toss saw the boot landing behind a chair sitting in front of the hearth. "You know you can't take anything he says seriously." She paused a moment to consider the second boot, noting a scratch she would need to have mended.

"I mean, okay, yes, he probably wasn't joking that he _is_ writing a story about a mage seeking the freedom of his brethren by fucking his way through the Chantry, but he'll probably only very _loosely_ match the character's description to you..." Another _thunk_ and the second boot joined its mate. She stood again and unlaced her corset.  

"I wasn't talking about Varric." Anders scowled. "Maker knows enough people read his insane stories. Maybe it might make someone actually think about our plight." Isabela tried to stifle the sigh, she really did, but Anders must have heard it by the way his brow scrunched up even further.

She certainly didn't argue with his assertion that the mages shouldn't be locked up like they were. Even the nicest of the Circles were just gilded cages, in her opinion. But that didn't mean she wanted to _talk_ about it. It certainly didn't do much for sustaining an amorous mood. Finished with the corset, she tossed it to the other side of the bed.

"Then who--?" She began, hoping to move them back into shallower waters. Really, he should already be kissing her. Or at the very least halfway to naked himself. As she moved to the laces of her tunic she gave him a scrutinizing look and thought back over the evening. What had him in such a foul mood?

"I'm talking about that pious ass Sebastian, of course." Anders snapped in answer. _Ah_. That explained it. Sebastian had been in a rather foul mood all night. She suspected he'd been arguing with Elthina again over the company he chose to keep outside of the Chantry walls. It always made him a bit touchy at group gatherings. It also made him prone to less patience at Anders' inevitable barbs, and the two had sniped at each other more than usual over the course of the evening.

"Well," she tried to keep her tone light, "it's not like I invited him, sweet thing. You've got Hawke to thank for that."

"Hmph. You certainly were welcoming enough to him though, weren't you?" The bitterness in Anders' voice caused Isabela to still completely. She didn't like the sound of this at all. She fought the urge to pull her tunic shut as she turned to face him.

"That sounds worryingly close to _jealousy_ , pet."

"Please," Anders scoffed. "I know you're not screwing him. Not for lack of trying either." She narrowed her eyes at him but he continued, "I wouldn't care if you were. That's our arrangement after all, and I'm fine with that." He held up a placating hand at her raised eyebrow. "I truly am. I just," his voice lowered and so did his hand as he added, "I just don't _understand_ how you can be friends with someone like him. You hate the Chantry as much as I do--" Another raised eyebrow and he hurried to qualify the statement, "Well, almost as much. You definitely don't approve of what it stands for. Yet along comes Brother Sebastian, batting those blue eyes and you can't seem to get enough of him."

"Oh Anders," Isabela sighed and sat down on the bed once more. She leaned back on her arms, her tunic sliding down them and pooling around her as she tilted her head to look at her friend. "There is more to Sebastian than just being part of the Chantry, you know."

"Oh yes," he scoffed. "He is a prince too, I could never forget that."

"That's not what I mean," Isabela answered, struggling to keep the bite out of her voice as she shook her head.

She didn't even know where to start in explaining her relationship with Sebastian to Anders. _Not that I actually_ owe _him an explanation of any kind._ But...he was clearly worked up about this tonight. It probably wouldn't hurt to at least try to put it into words.

"Sebastian accepts me for who I am," she began. "Despite his devotion to his faith, he doesn't try to change me. He _understands_. Sees a little bit of himself in me, no doubt." _Not that I would object to having a lot of him in me, in fact, but probably best not to say that out loud at the moment._ "At least, he sees how he used to be. I think..." she shrugged, uncomfortable. She hadn't really given the matter much thought before, at least, not on purpose. She just knew that what she and Sebastian had worked, much like how what she had with Anders just worked. But, if she was being honest, "...I think he sees me and he finds a little bit of redemption for his old life, for that boy he was."

A small frown formed on Anders' face and she could see his thoughts whirring behind those eyes so like her own. She bit her lip and then released it when she realized what she was doing. Why was it so important to make Anders understand? She couldn't answer that, she just knew that it was. This was a whole new kind of naked, one she wasn't nearly as comfortable with. But... _in for a bit, in for a sovereign_.

"He looks at me and sees that I've turned out alright, more or less, and he thinks that maybe even if things had been different he would have turned out alright too. He believes I am a good person, at heart, like Hawke does. I like that." Her voice turned a bit flippant at the end and she shrugged, trying to play off the seriousness of the moment.

Anders' whole face had softened and she could see that he _did_ understand. A flash of relief ran through her body, and then a current of annoyance at the relief. Anders shrugged out of his coat and shot her a wry grin.

"Of course, you do your best to try to prove him wrong by attempting to seduce him at every opportunity?" A wide smile spread across Isabela's face at that and she sat up, shrugging again and splaying her hands.

"Well, how does he really know he can resist temptation if someone doesn't give him ample opportunity to do so?" Anders laughed loudly in response, crossing the room in two steps and pulling her off the bed to crush her against him in a kiss.

"Ah, now there's the Isabela I know," he chuckled. For a brief moment his face turned serious again and he ran a thumb along her cheek, catching her eyes with his own. "You _are_ a good person, Isabela." Then the moment was broken again and he smiled impishly. "Even if you pretend you don't want to believe it." He kissed her again and she hurried to help him out of his clothes.

There was little left to say after that. The rest of that particular evening passed in a much more pleasant manner for both of them.

([Art by the splendid foxghost!](http://foxghost.tumblr.com/))

\--

As much as Isabela might claim she was keeping up their arrangement for Anders' sake, there was no denying that she sought him out almost as much as he came to her. Anders wisely did not point this fact out, and she herself pretended not to notice it. But more often than not, at the end of a bad day, she found herself making her way to the clinic, or giving Anders a silent signal to join her in her rooms if he was already at The Hanged Man.

Certainly she could have sought companionship elsewhere. There were always potential bedmates in The Hanged Man, though picking someone up in such an unsavory establishment, as much as she might thrive on the environment, was always a proposition of questionable wisdom. The Blooming Rose, of course, would be the _ideal_ place to seek a worry-free evening of debauchery. She was after all paid up for the year. On the other hand, she'd already had everyone that worked there, many of them more than once (many of them at the same time), and none of them were nearly as fun as she found Anders to be.

_Probably it's just the electricity trick. Can't really keep mages in the brothel in Kirkwall and expect it not to get back to Meredith one way or another. Especially not with so many Templars as patrons._

Or maybe it was the thrill of sneaking around behind the backs of Hawke and the others. That kind of thing had a tendency to ramp up the passion, she'd noticed.

"I'm _bored_ ," Isabela lamented, slamming her flagon on the counter. "I thought we were going to do something _fun_." Hawke snickered and took the flagon from her, finishing its contents.

"We are. We're just waiting for Fenris."

"Oh?" Isabela arched an eyebrow. "I didn't think you were the sharing type, Hawke. Did I forget my name day? Was I supposed to get _you_ something? I don't know how to top such a thoughtful gift!"

Hawke turned a lovely shade of red. Isabela _might_ have also noticed the flash of indignation in his eyes, but if she did, it didn't stop her from carrying on with the teasing.

"Do you know, Hawke, I've always wondered if he glows when he's in the throes of ecstasy. Shouldn't take the two of us very long for me to find out." She grinned lasciviously, indicating her delight at the prospect.

"Isabela," Hawke said warningly. The glint of indignation started to change into something a bit more violent of intent. Still she kept on.

"I've been wondering too, just how extensive his markings are. I'm sure that mapping them out would be quite enjoya-" Hawke slammed the flagon back on the counter, hard enough for Isabela to jump.

"I believe," Hawke said, so quietly that Isabela had to lean forward to hear the words, "that I quite forgot I had another obligation this evening. If you'll excuse me, we'll have to reschedule our plans." Without another word, he spun and marched out of the tavern, scattering half a dozen drunken patrons on the way to the door.

"Well," Isabela said out loud after a moment. "That was rather uncalled for." She was left wondering what that had actually been about. Usually it was Fenris who was the touchy one, not Hawke. Their fearless leader could normally take a bit of teasing in stride. "Damn," she said after a few more moments had passed. All of that talking and thinking about Fenris in compromising positions had left Isabela rather a bit hot under the collar. Well, it would have if she actually wore something that had a collar.

She didn't even realize where she was headed until she reached Darktown. Of course, by that point, a gaggle of darkspawn wouldn't have been able to stop her. She already knew that _Anders_ glowed, of course. But not during sexy times, and when he did it was decidedly _not_ a good thing. She had other plans in mind for the healer that evening though.

"Isabela!" Anders looked up in surprise when she let herself into the clinic. Thankfully the lanterns were already out for the evening. "I thought you were spending the evening with Hawke?" He finished washing his hands in a basin and reached for a clean cloth to dry them, tilting his head in curiosity.

"I changed my mind," she said, doing her best to cover up the flash of hurt at being ditched by Hawke over some silly teasing.

"Oh?" Anders came around to the other side of the table, leaning back with his hands perched behind him on its edge. "Did you want to talk about it?" Isabela leaned against one of the support pillars and gave him her best predatory gaze.

"We _could_ talk, yes. Or we could go into the back room and I could ride you like a thoroughbred." Anders' eyebrows shot up so far she thought they might be trying to escape his face. There was the briefest aura of blue light around him but he gave himself a subtle shake and when he looked at her again the grin he shot her sent a thrill of heat straight to her center.

"Lead the way, then," he said softly, coyly, gesturing toward the room in question.

So she did.

\--

Isabela was relatively certain that Hawke had no idea about the game she was playing with Anders. _Most_ of the companions were oblivious as well. Varric probably knew, though. He always seemed to know what everyone was up to.

But Sebastian....

She locked the door of her room at The Hanged Man, having just returned from a pleasant romp with her current favorite mage, and had to chuckle at her chance encounter with the not-quite-a-prince-not-quite-a-Brother that had occurred on the way home.

She had bounced out of the clinic, rather pleased with herself, and run smack into Sebastian on the stairs up out of Lowtown.

"Isabela?" His eyes widened in surprise when he recognized her. "I had not thought to find you here at this hour."

"Oh well, just picking up a potion from Anders," she answered cheekily, waving a small flask in his face. He hastily backed up a step to avoid being hit in the nose. She really had needed more of the potion if she didn't want to be giving Anders a little mage-ling to inherit his damned cause. Which she definitely did not.

"At night? On your own?" His voice was full of incredulity. "Isabela it isn't _safe_."

She crossed her arms and huffed at that.

"I am more than capable of taking care of myself, Sebastian," she pouted. "You should know that by now."

"Oh, aye, I do," he sighed in response, shifting the box he carried so that he could take one of her arms and turn her around. Leading her down the stairs and back toward the clinic he added, "I was thinking more about the poor souls who might be foolish enough to try mugging you in the hopes of enough coin to buy a decent meal or two. I should hate to see someone grievously wounded, or worse, killed, because they had simply underestimated someone of your skills."

The pout disappeared and she beamed at him, feeling much better. He certainly was a charmer. Of course, he still seemed to be trying to lead her back in the direction she had just come from, and a little flattery wasn't enough to make her overlook that fact. She stopped moving just outside the clinic doors and raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He sighed again.

"I'm going to drop these donated supplies off for Anders," he gestured with the box, "and then I will walk you back to the tavern. Please," he said, holding up his now free hand, "humor me."

"Oh _fine_."

The transaction went quickly enough and they were soon on their way. Anders had been surprised to see Isabela back so soon, especially given the company. But of _course_ Sebastian had been eager to explain that he would be escorting her home and she and Anders had shared a smirk at that. Anders at least never worried that she would have any problems getting herself where she needed to go. Sebastian was quiet on the way back and Isabela rather assumed he had been busy thinking Chantry-ish thoughts until he stopped up short just before the stairs that would lead them to The Hanged Man.

"I do hope you know what you're doing, Isabela," he said earnestly.

"Pardon? Of course I know what I'm doing. I'm going to The Hanged Man. Probably I'll get what passes for a drink and see if there's a hand of Wicked Grace I can join in and eventually I'll stumble up to my room and pass out in a blissful slumber."

"I meant," he said seriously, measuring each word with exacting carefulness, "with Anders."

"With--? _Oh_." Something in their exchange at the clinic must have tipped Sebastian off to their little secret. Perhaps they had both still been enjoying the afterglow a little too much.

"He is...not without his honor, I know. But he is a dangerous man. That one does not have it in his heart to--"

"Oh Sebastian, it's not his _heart_ I'm interested in. Trust me, he has 'it' in surplus in all of the necessary places." That had made him blush. She _loved_ when she made Sebastian blush. "Jealous are you?" She couldn't resist teasing him. "Would you rather take his place then?"

"It isn't _that_ Isabela, and you know it! I just...I worry for you. I am...fond of you, yes, and I would hate to see you get hurt. If he is just using you..."

"Oh sweet thing, you are too precious." She chuckled and patted him gently on the cheek. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe _I_ am the one using _him_?"

"I...I see." He gave her a long hard look before speaking again. "Very well, Isabela. I will have to trust that you do know what you're about."

"You will."

"Then with that I bid you a good evening." He sketched a quick bow to her and added, "We will not speak of this again." With that he turned and strode off into the night.

"No," she said after him, a satisfied smile on her face, "we won't."

Back in her room, she chuckled again at the memory, sure in the knowledge that her friend would keep her secret to himself. She quickly divested herself of her clothing, flopping down naked in her bed, ready for a well-earned rest after a night of play with Anders. Sebastian's face flashed in her mind as she settled in, once more laughing over his reaction. Now, _there_ was one she would absolutely love to get her hands on, but he was insistent about holding to his vows. She pouted a bit at that thought, wishing not for the first time that she had met him _before_ he had been sent to the Chantry. Oh the fun they could have had together.

Riled by this new line of thought and not so sleepy anymore, she slipped a hand between her legs, toying with the dark curls. Of course, there was nothing to prevent her from having her own fun, and imagining Sebastian while doing so. She slid two fingers inside her folds, still slick from her time with Anders. As she teased and stroked herself a wicked smile lit up her face.

There was absolutely nothing to stop her from telling Sebastian exactly what she did while thinking about him either. _That_ was guaranteed to make him blush.


	4. Four

What worried Isabela the most was how the whole thing seemed to sort of sneak up on her. Things didn't sneak up on her, she snuck up on _them_. Right before either stabbing them or relieving them of any interesting valuables they might have upon their person. Being caught unawares, especially by something as pesky as an _attachment_ , well, that just wasn't in her wheelhouse at all. She didn't know how to deal with it, and _that_ particular realization was making her cranky.

Take her little squabbles with Aveline, for instance. Before the whole mess with the Qunari trying to take over the city, Aveline's insults and jabs had always just rolled right off of Isabela. Water, duck's back, all that. Sure, she hadn't outright said that the whole thing had been Isabela's fault (because it _wasn't_ ). Okay, yes, maybe if she hadn't stolen the book or had maybe told someone else that it was the reason they were lingering in Kirkwall, things might never have gotten to that point. Isabela couldn't be responsible for fixing _everything_. But since Isabela's return to Kirkwall, Aveline seemed to have lost what little warmth she had managed to build up for the pirate. What once felt like more or less benevolent insults downright grated on Isabela now.

Especially being called a whore.

"You know Aveline," Isabela fired back after a particularly ill-timed jibe from the fiery warrior, "as much as you love being correct, I am surprised you would so wrongly throw around that word. Whores _charge_ for the pleasure of their company. Whereas I freely offer mine to anyone who catches my fancy. Or to my friends." That last bit was said lasciviously almost automatically.

Aveline blinked, caught off guard. Isabela rarely pushed back against the name, after all. She knew that, at least after all this time, it wasn't meant with any real malice. Still, she couldn't help herself. It had been a long damn day. They were all covered with filth from slogging through caves and routing out slavers. Isabela needed a hot bath, a stiff drink, and then a stiff fuck. Maybe in that order, maybe not. Probably at least the bath first, though. Some people were into a bit of actual filth in their bedroom play, but Isabela really wasn't. Aveline opened her mouth to reply, possibly even apologize, but Isabela cut her off.

"I'd be willing to offer you some pointers, as a matter of fact. Donnic would be more than welcome to watch, of course. Or even join in..." She was tired, but not too tired to dodge the slap that Aveline aimed at her. Aveline glared at Isabela as she skipped backward a step or two, out of reach and on guard for another attack. Maybe she'd gone too far, but she'd had enough of Miss High-and-Mighty acting so superior just because she had chosen a life of boring monogamy and Isabela hadn't. The pair glared at each other for a moment, standing stock still, blocking the stairs from Lowtown to Hightown. A throat-clearing from Hawke broke the spell and Aveline stalked up the rest of the stairs, not deigning to look back. Hawke gave Isabela a questioning look and she just shook her head.

"You know what, I'll pick up my share of the bounty tomorrow. I think I'm going to call it a night," Isabela said, aiming for casual and missing spectacularly. He just shrugged and then nodded before turning to follow Aveline. Isabela whirled around and stalked straight to The Hanged Man. She stopped by the bar long enough to buy a bottle of something strong from Corff and to order water for a bath sent up to her room.

_Andraste's ass! What is the matter with me? I haven't let my feelings be hurt by something as daft as name-calling since my mother sold me off. Bloody hell._

By the time she had bathed and consumed the entire contents of the bottle, she was more than a little unsteady on her feet and definitely not thinking clearly. She was also, however, extremely determined to seek out that stiff fuck. She set out for the clinic vaguely hoping that Anders was still awake. She was almost to her destination before the thought penetrated her fuzzy mind enough for her to realize she'd had it.

She stopped, swaying slightly as she realized that once _again_ she had gone to Anders without even thinking about it. In fact, she tried to think back, the process laborious in her current state; she hadn't been with anyone else in.... _Not since I came back to Kirkwall. Damn him!_ A deep scowl crossed her face and anger, helped along by alcohol, began to bubble up inside of her. She stomped the rest of the way to the clinic and barged right in when she got there.

"You have no right!" She exclaimed as she barreled through the big outer room. She stopped at the center and looked around in confusion, not seeing Anders anywhere.

"I'm sorry, what--Isabela?! Are you alright?" Anders emerged from one of the supply closets and nearly dropped a handful of potions at the sight of her standing, well, swaying, in the middle of the clinic, fury radiating off of her visibly. She turned to face him and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring.

"I said you have no right," she repeated petulantly.

"No right to...what? I'm sorry, I must have missed something." He attempted an easy smile but she did not miss the wariness in his eyes.

"To me!" She declared in answer, continuing, "To exclusivity! To bring feelings into this," she gestured back and forth between them, "arrangement between us. Just because we are friends outside of the bedroom doesn't mean you have any sort of claim on me!"

"I--" Anders began, blinking and flabbergasted.

"I'm not _yours_ , Anders." She finished, crossing her arms again. "I'm not _anyone's_." That last added quietly, but defiantly.

"I know that." Anders said after a moment, his bemusement clear on his face. "Did...did I do something to make you think otherwise?"

Isabela shook her head, wanting to explain. Needing him to know that _she_ wasn't having feelings either. She tried to take a step toward him, but a rut in the floor caught her foot and she almost fell flat on her face instead. Anders managed to cross the space between them and catch her in time, however. His bemusement turned to concern quickly when he got a good look at her glazed eyes and caught a whiff of the alcohol on her breath.

"Maker," he muttered, "you're a mess tonight. How you even managed to get here in one piece I'll never know." He scooped her up without ceremony and turned for his bedroom. Isabela rallied a bit at that, trying to struggle but her body was refusing to cooperate and her protest was only a feeble wriggling. Anders just tutted at her like she was one of her patients. "You need to sleep this off. We'll try this conversation again in the morning, I think."

She was aware of being settled onto his cot, and of him removing just enough of her clothing so she could sleep comfortably. Then her body was suffused with a cool tingling and the haziness of the drink was gone, leaving behind only a staggering weariness. Her eyes fluttered shut and she slipped into a blissful oblivion.

She woke the next morning with a start, disoriented for a moment. Then the memory of her exchange with Aveline peeked in and she groaned. Sitting up, she looked around and was surprised to find herself in Anders' cot, more or less fully clothed. That was even more of a surprise than her location. Although...she frowned in thought, trying to remember coming to the clinic the previous night. A hazy recollection of ordering and then drinking an _entire_ bottle of Corff's strongest brew swam lazily to the surface.

_That's not good._ Clearly she had gotten extremely drunk and then come here, which was worrying on many levels. Not the least of which was that bedding someone when she was that inebriated was a surefire way to find herself with unwanted itching and burning, or worse. _But it's_ Anders _. Surely he would have taken precautions if he saw I was too far gone to do so myself. At least I know I don't have to worry about picking up anything unsavory from him. On the other hand..._

She looked down again, noticing once more how much of her clothing remained on her person. Just her tunic and smalls, really, but it was enough. Isabela had no objections to only removing what was necessary for coupling, but Anders rather preferred for them both to be completely naked. Especially when she slept over.

_It seems he was a perfect gentleman last night, then,_ she thought to herself. Then she snorted, _or more likely Justice refused to let him take advantage of me when I was in such a state. Maker,_ what _possessed me to leave my rooms when I was_ that _pissed?_

She sighed and slipped out of the cot, stretching to work out the morning kinks. She was pleasantly surprised to realize that she didn't feel one bit hung over. Anders must have healed her before she fell asleep.

There was a knock on the doorframe and Anders himself appeared, peeking in around the edge of the curtain. When he saw she was awake he gave her a friendly yet cautious smile and stepped into the room.

"Morning, Isabela. I made you some tea." He set a mug down on the crate next to the cot and then backed his way to the door. "There weren't any patients waiting, so we should have a chance to talk before I open the clinic for the day." He gave her a strange look, seeming almost sad. "I'll wait for you out here so you can get dressed." With that, he left, closing the closing the curtain behind himself and leaving Isabela alone with her thoughts.

"Well, doesn't that sound ominous?" She made a quick search of the room, recovering her discarded wardrobe. As she pulled on each piece she continued muttering to herself. "A chance to _talk_ , he says. I don't like the sound of that."

Fully dressed, she sat back down on the bed and picked up the tea, taking a tentative sip. It was exactly how she preferred it, very dark and very sweet. It was even the perfect temperature. She smiled at the mug for a moment and then scowled, vaguely remembering her worry of the night before that Anders might be developing feelings for her. Well, it wasn't the tea's fault. With that rationale, she drank it down quickly and then joined Anders in the main room.

He straightened on his stool when she came in, gesturing to one across the table at which he sat. Isabela moved to take the offered seat, setting the empty mug on the table between them.

"Thank you, for the tea. And the, you know, healing. I don't know what I was thinking last night." A quick grin flashed across Anders' face and Isabela chuckled in answer. "Clearly. So..."

"Yes. So." Anders sighed, his demeanor turning serious once more. "Isabela, are you alright? You showed up here last night extremely agitated, not to mention falling down drunk..."

"Look, it was a bad night, Anders. What do you want me to say? Before I started drinking I was thinking that I wanted a shag. Apparently my mind held onto that thought after the bottle was gone." She shrugged and tried to keep her voice light but she wasn't sure Anders was buying it.

"Okay..." he said, tilting his head in thought. “But some of the things you said...I realize you were drunk and it could have been any number of things. But. Are _we_ okay?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" She quipped. "Unless you're starting to get too invested in our playtime." She added casually.

"Isabela." He sighed, shaking his head.

"Well, it is a _bit_ disconcerting that you know exactly how I take my tea," she teased. Anders rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Any friend who is observant enough, or who has sat around as many campfires with you as I have, listening to you bemoan the lack of honey, would know _that_ detail of your life."

"Hmph. Maybe."

"To answer your question," he sighed again. "You know our agreement as well as I. This only works if there's no emotional attachment on either side. I care about you, yes. I enjoy your company, but I do not see you as more than a friend." Isabela barely managed to contain her sigh of relief. "I do enjoy what we have, and even Justice agrees it has been a boon to us, but," he reached out and placed his hand lightly over her own, "If _you're_ ready to move on, I understand."

"Oh don't be silly Anders!" She laughed, at him, a real laugh this time. She was more relieved than she would admit to being back to knowing where they stood with one another. _Where he stands, at least_ , a small traitorous part of her chimed in. She quickly squashed that bit into a very small box and mentally turned the key before shoving it in a deep dark corner of her mind. "I couldn't abandon you now, not with as crazy as things have been! Wouldn't want you to snap and decide to try to do something big and stupid, like assassinate Meredith or something."

"Oh, no, of course not," Anders answered, his smile a bit strained. "We wouldn't want that, would we?"

"You _are_ looking a bit tense this morning, Anders," she purred, turning his hand over in her own. She stroked the back of it and gave him her best seductive smile. This time of morning, the light coming in from the shafts in the clinic was wonderful and golden. It limned Anders quite beautifully, catching his amber eyes and making him seem ethereal. Isabela flushed with desire at the sight.

"Isabela!" His eyes widened in surprise, "I really don't think this is the best time--"

"Oh don't be silly. You said you don't have to open for a while yet." She stood and stalked around the table, a hunter with its prey in sight. She reached him and placed her hands on his thighs, leaning in so that their lips were almost touching. "Besides, you took such good care of me, Ser Healer, I'd like to repay you for your trouble," she whispered. _And I've got quite a bit of steam to blow off myself._

Anders closed his eyes and swallowed, his breath speeding up. His lips parted and the tip of his tongue darted out to lick them. Isabela extended her own tongue, touching the tip of it to his. As if that was a signal, Anders reached up and pulled her in, carding his hands in her hair, swallowing her mouth with his own, his tongue tangling with hers.

Isabela was in no mood for stretching things out, so she took control quickly, tugging Anders off his stool and guiding him to the nearest vertical surface. Once he was leaning against a support pillar, she slid down to her knees and undid his trousers, smirking at the wanting way he watched her.

His cock was already half hard as she pulled it out of his pants and she quickly brought him to full erection with a few firm strokes. She tongued the head and then swallowed him down completely. Anders yelped in surprise and pleasure at the move. She chuckled around him and his hips bucked. Slowly, she pulled back, sliding her mouth along his length, licking his shaft. Anders let out a soft moan and continued to run his fingers through her hair. He was close to coming when he suddenly stiffened and then began pushing her away.

"Stop, you have to stop."

"Anders, what--?" He was lacing his trousers up and pulling his jacket on, buckling it up to hide his erection.

"We're about to have company," he said by way of apology as Isabela slowly stood and frowned at him. "Fenris, at least, which means probably Hawke as well..."

"How can you possibly know that?" Isabela demanded, slowly standing up.

"The lyrium in his markings--" Anders began, but then the door was swinging open and just as he had said, there was Fenris, along with Hawke and Varric. Anders' face changed so fast it almost made Isabela's head spin and he smirked at her, saying, "Don't come running to me next time you pick up one of these diseases."

Isabela came very close to punching him. Instead she pouted (which wasn't very hard to do, given the circumstances), and pretended she hadn't noticed the new arrivals.

"Isn't that the _point_ of magic?" She huffed and turned, stalking out of the clinic, glaring at Hawke on her way out. She barely heard his quip about not wanting know before she was out the door.

_Andraste's ass! I didn't even get laid!_

Well, it seemed whatever Hawke had planned for today, she wasn't needed. It was high time she stopped by The Blooming Rose to reacquaint herself with its lovely talent. She took the first exit out of Darktown that would get her to the brothel and proceeded to spend the next two days having as much sex with as many different people as she could.

\--

Yet despite her resolve to start visiting The Blooming Rose more often again, and to find other playmates outside of Hawke's circle...Isabela kept finding herself back in Anders' arms. The more she tried to stay away, the more she found herself drawn to him. It would have been exceedingly frustrating if the man wasn't so damn _good_ at playing.

When Justice fled to the far recesses of Anders' mind so that Anders could find some physical relief, it was almost as if he was that runaway mage she remembered from Denerim again. He would still revert to the same old serious Anders at the drop of a hat, it was true, but there were long moments where he seemed at peace. Happy, even. Isabela knew he needed those moments, or he would shatter into a million pieces under the strain of his cause.

She could not deny him that. Worse, she didn't want to deny _herself_ those moments. Anders' laugh, Anders with humor, not cynicism, Isabela could get lost in that. Certainly it was better than letting him mope over Hawke, who was never going to look at Anders that way. Especially not after he had taken up with Fenris. It would have been so easy to break things off if Isabela had for one second suspected that Anders was starting to develop _feelings_ for her, but it was so clear that he wasn't that she just couldn't come up with any legitimate reason to put an end to their game.

 While she was right about Sebastian keeping her arrangement with Anders a secret, she was surprised that he didn't do nearly as well at keeping his promise not to speak of it again. Much like Anders feelings about him, Sebastian also felt she should make better choices about her associations. It would have been funny if it wasn't so damned annoying.

He was clearly concerned by the relationship and worried that Isabela was bragging about fewer conquests as time wore on. _I would think he'd be_ happy _I've cut down on the number of people I share my bed with_ , she grumbled to herself one night while they played Wicked Grace together at The Hanged Man.

They were in Varric's rooms, wanting more quiet than the common room offered. Varric was out with Hawke on an errand but mostly didn't mind them using his space. So long as they left it as neatly as they'd found it and nothing turned up missing afterwards, they were welcome to it, he had told them. Sebastian flatly refused to be alone with Isabela in her rooms, and even Varric seemed content that the pair of them would get up to nothing untoward if left alone together. _I should really be insulted by that, come to think of it._

Sebastian had not so subtly worked the conversation to the topic of Anders once again and Isabela was having a hard time concentrating on the game. She was half convinced he did it on purpose to curb her cheating. He certainly was capable of it. No one gave him credit for his true level of deviousness, she had come to learn. It was probably for the best he had decided to put his powers to use for the good of mankind, rather than his own gains. With those eyes and that smile and that clever mind of his, he would be damn near unstoppable.

Lost in thoughts about a Sebastian that had never joined the Chantry, it took her a moment to realize he was speaking to her. 

"He is a selfish man, Isabela. I know you think you cannot be hurt, but--"

She cut Sebastian off with a laugh.

"Selfish? Really? That's usually the insult leveled at _me_." She shook her head, another wry chuckle escaping her lips. Sebastian began to protest but she continued before he could speak. "As if I wouldn't know how to deal with a selfish person. Would that he was. As it is I nearly had to beg to get him into my bed." Sebastian's eyes widened at that revelation but Isabela barreled ahead. "Oh don't look at me like that. The man works himself nearly to death between the clinic and Hawke. Add to that his cause and he needs _some_ sort of diversion."

"You consider yourself a...diversion?" Sebastian scoffed.

"Yes," Isabela replied with a wicked smile. "A _very_ pleasant one. It's not like I get nothing from the encounters." Sebastian shook his head ruefully. "No, Anders is not selfish. Never that," she finished. "He gave up the privacy of his own _body_ to allow a friend to continue living. He can never make a decision on his own without knowing it will also affect Justice and considering how the spirit will deal with it. He gave up his very _self_ , Sebastian."

"Some might consider it a coward's path," the prince said softly, "to give up having to make any decisions on one's own."

Blue eyes widened at the pressure of the knife suddenly at his throat. The laughter had died from Isabela's voice and her own visage was fierce as she locked eyes with her friend.

"Whatever you may think of Anders, Sebastian, he is no coward. I will not hear you call him that again. Do you understand me?"

Gently he placed a fingertip at the edge of the knife, pushing it down and away. Isabela allowed him to do so, knowing she had made her point.

Sebastian nodded once and then stared at her for a long moment, an oddly assessing look in his eyes. Isabela returned the knife to its place and sat back, impressed that Sebastian had not lost an ounce of composure under the threat. He was more like her than he would care to admit. He reached across the table slowly and gently cupped her cheek in his palm.

"You care about him quite a lot," he said softly. "More than you would admit, I believe." Isabela blinked at the odd echo of thoughts she'd had more than once. "I apologize, my friend. I will endeavor to understand his actions more fully before coming to further judgment. Clearly, there is more to him than I have allowed myself to see."

"You're not perfect, Sebastian. None of us are," she said, looking away. Sometimes Sebastian's earnestness was enough to unsettle her. He knew her too well and she didn't know how that had happened. "Just, give him the benefit of the doubt." She looked back, meeting his eyes once more, "If all you want to see is an apostate with a grudge against the Chantry, or some sort of abomination, then that is all you _will_ see. But there _is_ more there, and he is trying to do what he can to make the world a better place for people like him. Is that really so bad?"

"No," he smiled, dropping his hand from her face. "I suppose it is not." He was quiet for a moment and Isabela stood, turning to go. It was past time for her to make an exit, she decided. She stopped when he spoke up once more, softly, so soft she almost didn't hear him. "Walk with care around him, Isabela. Whatever else he may be, Anders is very close to breaking."

"I know," she answered, more sorrow in her voice than she would have believed. But when she turned to catch his eye, Sebastian was already gone. She blinked, impressed that he had managed to sneak out of the room so swiftly. Then she sighed and shook her head, leaving Varric's rooms for her own.


	5. Five

Sebastian was not wrong about Anders' precarious state, as much as Isabela wanted to convince herself otherwise. As much as she _tried_ to help him unwind, to see that there was more to living than having a cause. Kirkwall was a pot of simmering seething fear. It had never really gone away after the Qunari were defeated. It had calmed down, yes, but bit by bit it began to build up again, this time directed (with Meredith's eager assistance) at mages.

New Tranquils seemed to turn up in the Gallows every week, and more mages than that just disappeared. Some were openly named blood mages who had been found out and executed, or killed in attempted escape. Others simply vanished, never to be mentioned again. All of this had the dual effect of making Anders extremely on edge while also keeping him so busy, with Hawke and in the clinic, that he rarely had time for Isabela's attempts to distract him.

Then they went to Sundermount to help Merrill talk to a demon. Oh, Hawke certainly didn't tell the rest of the group that's what they were doing, and he definitely didn't invite Anders to join them. Just asked Isabela and Varric if they wanted to tag along and help Merrill out with something. He knew it was a request the two rogues would never turn down.

He had chosen wisely enough, it seemed. Because when push came to shove, those were also the two who weren't going to turn on Merrill when her clan demanded retribution. One seriously brutal fight later and that was it, there was no longer a group of Dalish camped outside of Kirkwall.

Isabela half expected Varric to make some comment about the city's residents thanking them for solving such a long-standing problem, but she wasn't surprised when he kept quiet about it. Merrill was as close to broken as Isabela had ever seen someone who didn't actually break. The elven woman was clearly in grieving. But _not_ broken, Isabela noted with pride. Always stronger than anyone expected her to be.

Hawke broke the news of the events to the rest of his companions as gently as he could, but it didn't exactly go over well. Both Fenris and Sebastian expressed disappointment in Hawke for going along with Merrill's plan, for not telling them about it, and for not inviting them to come along and keep an eye on her. Anders, of course, was the most vocally outraged by what had happened. Even more so when he learned that Merrill was at that moment in her home in the alienage, and that Hawke was actually asking his friends to stop by and check on her as they had the time.

"How can you even have allowed her to return to the city?" Anders demanded, not bothering to keep his voice down. Isabela found herself very grateful they were in Varric's rooms, though if this kept up, the people downstairs would soon be able to hear them well enough.

"Merrill's no threat to Kirkwall," Hawke said in bewilderment. Fenris choked on his drink and Sebastian pounded him heartily on the back, giving Hawke a skeptical glare. "What happened on Sundermount was hardly your normal set of circumstances," Hawke insisted. "You can't blame Merrill for what _Marethari_ did, or how the clan reacted to it."

"You can't honestly tell me that _any_ of that would have happened if Merrill wasn't so obsessed with that damned mirror!" Anders exclaimed angrily. He visibly calmed himself and when he spoke again it was in a lower voice, one striving to be reasonable. "Look, all I'm saying is that it's not safe for her to stay here anymore. If anyone should find out what happened--"

"Why would they find out, Anders?" Hawke's voice was cold enough to give Isabela shivers, and not the good kind either. "Are you planning on telling someone?"

"I--of course not. But she's a _blood_ mage Hawke, there's no denying that. With everything that's going on--"

"Merrill stays in Kirkwall for as long as she wants to." There was finality in Hawke's tone and Anders stared at him silently. His fists balled up in fury but he said nothing in response. He seemed to realize there wasn't anything he _could_ say to change Hawke's mind.

"If it's Daisy's safety you're worried about Blondie," Varric spoke up, "we'll make sure she's protected, never doubt it." Even Varric's voice was tinged with frost. Anders seemed to wilt at the dwarf's statement. He did not look surprised, but Isabela picked up the note of hurt in his eyes. Varric would never have chosen one of them above the other, but Anders had forced his hand, and he knew he had lost.

"Fine." Anders muttered. "I can see how much my opinion counts around here." Hawke started to say something but Anders didn't give him the chance. "Don't bring her to my clinic, Hawke. I'll be there if you need me, but don't expect me to play nice with her."

He left without looking back, a deep and brooding silence falling over the group in his wake. Their party broke up pretty quickly after Anders' departure and Isabela, worried about him, slipped out of the tavern and turned for the nearest path to Darktown.

"I thought as much," a weary voice said. Sebastian stepped out from the shadow of a building, a sad frown on his face. Isabela glared at him but he shook his head and said, "I'll walk you there, if you'll allow it. The whole city is on edge, and capable or not, I don't like the thought of you going there alone tonight."

Isabela grunted in response and he fell in at her side. She was grateful that he remained quiet as they made their way to the clinic. When they arrived, Sebastian surprised her with a quick hug and a whispered, "Be careful, please," before he turned to go, melting back into the shadows. She very carefully eased open a door to the clinic and peeked in. Anders hadn't bothered to light any candles but she could hear him grumbling to himself in his room.

"Anders?" She called out as she made her way to him. Surprising him tonight seemed like a recipe for trouble. He came out of the back room and looked at her for a long moment. Pale light filtered in from the moon, but the clinic was steeped in darkness. She could just make out his shape and the glitter of his eyes from across the room.

"What do you want, Isabela?" He rubbed a hand over his eyes, clearly exhausted. She contemplated saving herself some trouble and just knocking him out with something heavy. He'd have a new reason to be cranky in the morning but at least he might get a solid night's sleep.

"Are you going to be alright?" She asked instead.

"As long as Merrill stays away from me," he bit out. Isabela bristled involuntarily. Anders noticed.

"So you didn't come to tell me you think I'm right and that she's too dangerous to keep in Hawke's company." She could practically taste the sarcasm dripping from his words.

"You know the answer to that," she snapped. "We're all dangerous, Anders. We'd be unfit company for Hawke if we weren't. You can include yourself in that, you know."

"Merrill's gone too far."

"She was trying to protect her people!" Isabela exclaimed, beginning to run short on patience. _Why did I come here?_ "Tell me that is something you of all people don't understand!"

"By consorting with demons! By meddling with blood magic! How does that help _anyone_? Look what it got her! An entire clan of Dalish, slaughtered! At the hands of those who _should_ have had the guts to stop Merrill themselves!"

Anders let out a grunt as Isabela slammed him against the wall, her knives drawn on of their own volition.

"You weren't _there_ ," she said softly.

"You _were_ ," Anders replied, blue lines flaring across his skin. It took everything in Isabela not to recoil from the spirit's appearance. Anders' voice was still his own though when he continued. "Tell me how killing that whole clan was _justified_."

"We were defending ourselves! When they found out Marethari was dead, they attacked us!"

"Yes, and why did Marethari die? Oh, yes, to protect _Merrill_." He spat her name out like some vile-tasting thing.

"Marethari brought that on herself! You want to go after someone for consorting with demons, then you look to her! She could have trusted Merrill to be strong enough to fight it, or to bring help, which she _did_. Better yet she could have stopped trying to force Merrill's hand and just _helped_ her from the start. Then Merrill wouldn't have ever needed to resort to blood magic in the first place!"

"There's just an explanation for everything, isn't there?" Anders gave a mocking little laugh, shaking his head.

"Believe what you want, Anders. I know you'll never give her the benefit of the doubt. But trust in Hawke at least. If he could have saved Marethari and the rest of the Dalish he would have."

"All he had to do was kill Merrill when he found out what she was," he said softly.

Isabela never could say why she didn't just slit his throat then and there. Instead, she managed to force herself to back away. One step, then another. _Friend! He's your friend!_ She told herself, her eyes locked on him, amazed by how much bitterness he held. _He's just hurting and angry. Let him cool down._

"You need sleep Anders," she told him trying for calm and falling far short. Her hands might be steady but her voice was shaking. "I'll come back tomorrow, or the day after, maybe both of our heads will be clearer then. Just, get some rest. Take care of yourself," she pleaded. _Don't do anything rash_ , she couldn't make herself add.

Instead she reached out a hand and cupped his cheek lightly, holding it there for just a moment before turning for the doors. She had just put out a hand to open one when Anders spoke up again.

"I can't do this anymore."

"Anders..."

"No. I know you're trying to help me, but it _doesn't_ help anymore. All it does is remind me of things I can't have, things I'll _never_ be able to have. That the best I can do is to fight to make sure others like me aren't denied those things ever again."  

"What...Anders, what are you saying?" She tried very hard to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Surely he couldn't mean what she thought he did. This was just one more argument, they'd had so many. But they always managed to work it out in the end.

"This. Our arrangement, Isabela. It's over. Just...just know I'll always appreciate what you did. But there's too much to do. I can't keep wasting time with you." He may as well have actually slapped her. She couldn't hide the flinch the words brought.

He didn't even bother to wait for her to leave, just turned and went back into his room. Isabela stood there dumbfounded for a few moments. Then she shook herself and made her own exit, her head awhirl. She was distracted enough that Sebastian's second sudden appearance from the shadows made her jump almost out of her skin.

"You waited?" The words came out in a squeak. She tried not to notice the concern that washed over his face at her reaction.

"I feared he might not be in a mood to be reasoned with."

"Hmph. Well, you got that right." She tried to affect her normal air of flippancy but suspected she missed the mark widely.

Sebastian was watching her carefully and she realized that at any moment he was going to ask her about it. She also realized that if he did, she might actually start crying. That was something she could not deal with. So instead she steeled herself and linked her arm through his, beaming at him.

"Suddenly my evening seems to have opened up. Buy a girl a drink?"

Sebastian gave her one more scrutinizing gaze and then sighed. But he nodded and off they headed, back to where the evening had begun.

\--

And that was it. After that fight, the two avoided each other whenever possible. They didn't even need to pretend around the others that nothing had happened between them. Anders was quite vocal in his derision of Merrill and what had happened with her clan, while Isabela was equally vocal in her defense of the elven woman.  What had been lost between them was hardly noticeable in the midst of obviously explained rancor. Save perhaps by an exiled prince and a dwarven storyteller, but if they did notice, neither said a thing.

Isabela's patronage of The Blooming Rose returned to its former frequency and Anders.... Anders returned to working himself to the breaking point, pushing against a broken system until he, well, broke. Eventually it occurred to her that maybe, just _maybe_ , Anders had _pushed_ her away after what happened with Merrill in order to implement his plan to destroy the Chantry without involving her or letting her find out what he was up to. But by that time she was already out to sea, bound for Starkhaven with Sebastian, Hawke, and Fenris. Anders himself was just one corpse of many left behind in the wake of his own destruction. By Hawke's hand, yes, but at his own request. She tried not to dwell on either of those facts.

_Why do I even care?_ She crossed her arms across her chest, suddenly chilled by a gust of wind blowing across the deck. _It's not like we were ever anything special to each other._ But another part of her chimed in, saying, _Oh no, nothing special. Just_ friends _. You've had so many of those. Yet he's dead and_ you _let it happen._ She shook her head in disagreement with the thought.

_Anders_ had let it happen. Had asked for it, even, _and after you failed to keep him from breaking himself, you couldn't imagine making him live with what he'd done. It's not as if you don't know what it's like to be responsible for that kind of pain, after all, is it, oh Pirate Queen?_

She shivered involuntarily and then jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder. She spun around to find Sebastian behind her, offering a coat.

"Wind's picking up," he said softly, though there was no one around at the moment to overhear him. "Thought you might need this." She nodded thanks and took the coat, slipping into it quickly. It was her own, she noted. She frowned, sure she'd locked the door to her quarters. A quick smirk from Sebastian, gone the second she saw it, confirmed her suspicions. He'd picked the lock, then.

_On his way to reclaim a throne or not, we are going to have to have a discussion about what is and is not allowed on_ my _ship._

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sebastian was serious once more. It was a different kind of serious than she had grown used to from him over the years in Kirkwall though. This was no longer the Chantry Brother, she knew, but the Prince of Starkhaven that she was seeing before her.

"About the wind?" She asked, arching a brow.

"Anders--" He stopped short, and despite the stoniness on his face at the name, she could see true concern in his eyes. Concern for her.

"There's nothing to talk about." She spun around to face the sea again, noting a dark pile of clouds on the horizon. She frowned at them. They were directly ahead of the ship's current course.

"Isabela--" he began, but she cut him off.

"He was my friend, Sebastian, nothing more. I tried to help him, but I couldn't, and now he's dead."

"He took quite a few people with him. Good people." Sebastian said harshly. Isabela couldn't argue with the truth in those words, despite how differently she might see the matter, so she didn't bother. After a moment's silence he added, "I know better than to think you would blame yourself for not stopping him, but...I don't think he ever actually _wanted_ help. From any of us. His mind was made up and his path was set years ago, Isabela."

"I...I know that," she said, turning back around. She shrugged uncomfortably, unsure of what to say next. "I need to round up the crew," she announced suddenly, ready for a change of subject. "It looks like we're headed for a storm." Sebastian gave her a small smile and reached up to squeeze her elbow gently, just once, before gesturing for her to lead the way.

"I think you're right about that," he said quietly as he fell in behind her.

**End**


End file.
